


Prodigal Son

by obstinatrix



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2018-10-17 06:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstinatrix/pseuds/obstinatrix





	

**Title** : Prodigal Son  
**Pairing** : Jared/Jeffrey Dean Morgan  
**Rating** : NC-17  
**Disclaimer** : Lies!  
**Prompt** : [Here](http://community.livejournal.com/blindfold_spn/3417.html?thread=5135449#t5135449). _'It's some time during the early seasons of SPN, and Jeff and Jared have been flirting with each other not-so-subtly during filming. Jared keeps teasing Jeff by calling him "dad", Jeff tells Jared that if he was his dad he'd beat his ass._ '  
**NB** : Oh God, this is the only one of these fills that I'm kind of embarrassed to have written, and I didn't even manage to get spanking into it.

"Boy," Jeff says, "I'm not gonna tell you again. Sit. your ass. _down_."

The tension in his voice is maybe too naked, the words warning-dark with it. Any other time, Jeff probably would have tried harder to keep things light, however sincerely he meant what he goddamn said. But it's after midnight, he's exhausted as all hell, and Jared just will not stop fucking _looming_. Jeff isn't exactly in the mood to be polite.

The trailer isn't big to begin with, and Jared makes everything look small. His hands look big on his narrow little hips; his cocky fucking smile looks big, undeterred, on his face, and Christ, where does he get the energy for it all? He's been like this all day, slaps to Jeff's shoulders, hips bumped against his, generally invading his personal space, and every time, to Jeff's cloudy expression, just - "Sorry, Dad," and a grin that isn't sorry at all.

It's reached a point where Jeff's just had enough. "Jared," he says, low and cautioning, when Jared shows no signs of moving. "What'd I just say?"

And there it goes, that fucking grin, the same one he's pulled out all day, like he thinks it'll get him out of trouble all on its own. Hell, it's a nice grin, all straight white teeth and dimples, and Jeff has no doubt that it's won him plenty of slack in its time. But when Jared says, "Sorry, _Dad_ ," and laughs, Jeff doesn't feel much like relenting.

"If I was your dad, boy," he says, tightly, "I'd have tanned your hide for you by now, I can tell you."

Exasperated, he'd meant to wipe that smile off of Jared's face - maybe even get him out of the trailer entirely, and damn the consequences till morning. The way Jared's eyes darken as the smile falters - the way he bites his lip, breathes out hard through his nose - these things were not part of the plan. Nor was it the plan for Jared to just - stand there like that, solid and unmoving, while his - his cock swells out against the front of his jeans, holy fucking _fuck_.

"Jared," he tries, and the tone of his voice is different, now, faltering and unsure. "Would you just sit?"

"Sure," says Jared lightly, after a second, and Jeff feels something loosen in his chest with relief. And then Jared takes a step, and another; throws one long leg over Jeff's lap and settles himself there, all two-hundred-some pounds of him.

The relief swiftly drains away, leaving a space for something else to wriggle into, something that thumps slow and traitorous between Jeff's legs.

"I didn't mean _on_ me," Jeff says faintly, like they don't both know this can't possibly be some simple misunderstanding.

"'m sorry, Dad," Jared says, sounding more contrite than Jeff's ever heard him. And then he rolls his hips, slow forward pressure against Jeff's cock. The gasp that punches out of Jeff is, God, he hopes purely a reaction to the unexpected contact, but it's disconcerting and, fuck, so wrong that he can't be sure. He bites his lip, shoves at Jared a little, but all he manages is to settle Jared more firmly in his lap, their cocks hot against each other through two layers of denim. This is a horrible idea, and Jeff knows it - knows he shouldn't let himself rock upward against Jared; shouldn't let his head fall back with how good it is, but he can't remember the last time he was this hard this fast, and hell, it isn't exactly like Jared's really giving him a choice. Which, whatever crap he might be spouting now about being sorry, is pretty much par for the course with Jared.

Jared's far too good at this, at spreading his legs and rolling his pelvis at just the right angle to make things spark into a slow burn that sets Jeff prickling everywhere. He's not giving in - really, he's just going with it until Jared gives up on the joke, because it's easier that way, taking the path of least resistance - which obviously is why Jeff whines in protest when the pressure is suddenly gone, his lap suddenly cold and empty.

"Don't worry, Dad," Jared says, and Jeff's eyes snap open immediately at the warmth of those big hands low down on his thighs, pushing his knees apart. Jared's on the floor, kneeling between his legs - Jared's _kneeling between his legs_ , calling him _Dad_ , and Christ, Jeff's clearly going to so much hell, because his hips hitch upward without his permission, one hand groping for Jared's hair.

"What are you doing, son?" The words trip out half-consciously, feeling clumsy and stupid in his mouth. He's blushing, blood burning in his cheeks, but Jared makes a sound in the back of his throat that, fuck, makes it worth it; makes Jeff's stomach lurch until he forgets how many flavors of stupid this is.

"I don't mean to be bad," Jared says. His hands are moving, now, slow push of palms up Jeff's thighs, and Jeff's skin is leaping everywhere, straining towards Jared's touch. "I just - I want to make it better, Dad." He thumbs at the bulge of Jeff's cock in his jeans; skims over the sharp line of the zipper, and Jeff's breathing quickly now, dirty-hot want in his stomach. "Let me be sorry, huh?" Jared says, and, God, how'd he get so good at this? There's no trace of pink in his cheeks, except for what Jeff knows is sex flush. Nothing to say he's ashamed to be calling Jeff _Dad_ as he opens his pants, tugs down his boxers and snags them under his balls.

Jared, obviously, is less fresh-faced Texan than Jeff ever gave him credit for. And that's - something that shouldn't be as interesting as Jeff's finding it.

Not that he has very long to find it interesting. Jared doesn't mess around; just leans forward almost sideways-on to suck, hard, at the side of Jeff's cock. Jeff starts at the unexpected touch, fingers clutching reflexively in Jared's hair, and Jared hums his approval; presses his tongue to the vein on the underside of Jeff's cock and drags it up, hard.

"Fuck," Jeff grits out, tightening his jaw to keep from bucking upward, searching out that heat. When he glances down, Jared's looking up at him, all wide, plaintive puppy eyes, and Jeff is a bad, bad man, but Christ, it's hot. His breath catches as Jared licks his way upward, as he presses a kiss to the tip where Jeff's already pearling precome.

"Jared," he gets out, pointlessly, and Jared smooths his hands over Jeff's thighs, as if he were gentling, warm pressure through the denim.

"It's okay, Dad," Jared tells him, eyes soft and open for a moment. His tongue curls out, soft and pink, to swipe at the slickness at the crown of Jeff's cock and

" _Fuck_." Jeff's hips surge up, and Jared half-laughs; grips him by the hipbones and closes his lips over the head. For a moment, that's all he does - jack of his hand at the base of Jeff's cock as his lips work gently, tongue pressing hard to the slit - and Christ, it isn't like it isn't enough. But then he's sinking, bobbing his head lower in short little stutters, and Jeff bites into his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Jared's got a big mouth, sure, but that's his _throat_ , now, fluttering soft against the head of Jeff's cock, and Jared's hair between his fingers is so soft and Jeff's, fuck, Jeff's gone far too long caught between Jared's teasing and the insufficient touch of his own hand.

"Jared," he's gasping, and his hips won't stay still, now, but Jared doesn't seem to care, moaning around him and fumbling with his own zipper as he lets Jeff fuck him, driving his cock against the back of Jared's throat. "Jared," he pants, "that's it, fuck, c'mon son, such a good boy, _Jesus -_ " and then Jared's sucking at him so hard it's like he's drawing out the come, swallowing as Jeff shoots in his throat.

It seems to go on forever, Jared's muscles shifting as he swallows around him, milking out spurt after endless spurt, and Jeff's limbs feel like liquid, his legs sprawled wide at the knees around Jared's body. When, finally, Jared lets him slip out of his mouth, he looks _debauched_ , fucked-out and pink-mouthed and slack, eyes shining surreally. He sits back on his haunches, and Jeff's sated cock jerks feebly at the sight of Jared's hand working fast and wet over his own dick, head fallen back as he flicks at the tip.

"That's it, boy," Jeff manages; tips his head back and sprawls lower in the chair. "C'mon, son, you're doing so good. Doin' so good. You wanna come, don't you? Gonna come for your dad?"

He feels filthy and embarrassed the moment it's out of his mouth, but, God, Jared clearly has no such reservations, head snapping back and hips pulsing up as his orgasm takes him, fingers now apart, now closed, wringing it out of him in spurts.

"Holy crap," Jeff manages, breathless, and Jared smiles up at him weakly, face sweat-damp and pink, hand still moving slightly on his spent cock.

"Yeah," Jared says, and shifts a little so he's leaning more fully on Jeff's leg, pillowing his head on his knee. "I, uh."

"Sssh," Jeff says hastily, not wanting the discussion about it now - not wanting much of anything except the quiet of afterglow, and Jared's hair sliding soft and too-long through his fingers. "It's okay. It's okay."

Jared lets him, for a while, turning his head to be petted like some kind of animal, and Jeff's shocked by how pleasant it feels. Then, eventually, when the aftershocks have rippled out of them into stillness, Jared lifts his head and laughs a little, familiar gleam sparking in his eyes.

"So, Jeff. I'm thinkin' of misbehavin' again tomorrow." His voice has gone all lazy, slipping south, and Jeff snorts and cuffs him gently across the back of the head.

"You try that, boy, and I'll show you what for," he cautions.

"That's what I'm hoping for," Jared counters, and grins, pink end of his tongue caught between his teeth.

Jeff looks at him a minute, and then shakes his head on a laugh. "Oh, fuck you," he says, weakly.

"You're done for, old man," Jared tells him, rubbing little circles on Jeff's thigh through his jeans.

"Crap," Jeff says, lazily; cards his fingers through Jared's hair.

Somehow, he feels an awful lot like a guy who doesn't give a fuck. Which - yeah. Jeff doesn't exactly think Jared will mind.


End file.
